Dirty
by Kazo Sakamari
Summary: "You were having a nightmare mate." James whispered.


I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

><p>The flames flickered and sparked, a wave of warmth flowing outwards engulfing Sirius as he shivered, collapsed in on himself on the futon. His skin burned from the heat and he unconsciously shifted closer to the fireplace when he felt something cold on his arm.<p>

Flinching away with a sharp gasp he turned to see James' bespectacled eyes staring back at him.

"Sirius?"

"Huh?"

"I asked you a question."

"Oh. I wasn't listening."

James pushed his glasses up his nose and his eyes drifted toward the fire and back to Sirius accusingly. He knew. Sirius didn't know _exactly_ what his friend knew, but he knew something and it wasn't good. Not for him anyways.

"Obviously." James pursed his pink, almost feminine looking, lips that were never cracked or dry and narrowed his eyes at Sirius who froze for the briefest second before he laughed, sharp and cold and not like his normal barking laugh at all.

"Fuck off Potter." He said, voice wavering only a little.

Snagging his bag off the floor he stalked out of the common room letting the portrait hole bang shut, feeling James' disapproving yet confused eyes on his back the entire time. Outside the corridor was dark and chilly after the warmth of the fire and golden light of the common room and Sirius collapsed against the cold stone wall. Closing his eyes tight, his heart pounding in his chest.

.

He could feel the fire on his skin, licking his fingers. Hear the crackling logs, see the white hot coals forever burned into his mind. Pain rippled through his body and he pushed off the wall before his knees could give way, hurried off down the corridor. Into the darkness. Where he belonged.

.

He didn't deserve the warmth of the fireplace, the golden light of the common room, James' comforting hand on his shoulder or his worried hazel gaze. He was not a boy who deserved that.

.

He deserved darkness. Sweat and grim, dirt and soot, pain. He was dirty. A dirty _dirty_ boy who was so afraid of soiling James' perfect crisp white sheet of a soul, of a heart.

.

He didn't deserve James.

.

At a high arched window he stopped, his breathing ragged and his eyes blurred, the moon glistened in the dark sky. Nearly full. Remus had already started to snap at him in annoyance, a sure sign that the wolf was coming out to play soon.

Holding up his hands close to his face, centimeters away he stared at them. Studied them. Every line, every crease, every crack.

And they were perfect.

.

_Perfect._

_._

Smooth white silky skin stretched across his hands.

His beautiful piano playing hands, like his mother used to say. Before he became a disgrace, a disgusting creature in the corner. Such a creature didn't deserve love. He was too dirty for love.

.

Not a trace of the blistering raw red bleeding skin.

No thick warped scars, no screaming out in pain as his father pressed his hands into the white coals, no trace of anything.

No nothing.

It was like it had never happened.

Like it had all been some warped, twisted nightmare.

.

Sirius blinked wildly, as though if he could see clearer he could understand.

After he got himself back under control he made his way slowly back to the dormitory. The moon was high in the sky and he had no idea what time it was. It was just late. Too late.

James would be mad at him, but fuck James. Fucking stupid perfect James Potter. The best friend he'd ever had, with his perfect windswept hair and his golden hazel eyes and his laugh that made Sirius forget who he was, where he was, what he'd done.

Fucking stupid James Potter, trying to help, trying to care, trying to love a dirty boy like me.

Can't he see it's not going to work?

That I'm not worthy of his love?

Why doesn't he understand...?

.

Pulling open the fat lady Sirius clambered into the deserted common room, hesitating for a moment by the fireplace.

The hot crackling fire had died down and now just the coals burned with a few small flickering flames.

He was half on his knees reaching out before he realized what he was doing.

.

"What's your name?" The girl yelled over the pounding music, giving him a loose smile.

"Sirius."

"Serious?"

"No…like the star…nevermind."

She tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder and smiled at him brighter this time, laughing a high pitched laugh that grated on his ears.

"Okay, here, drink this." A red plastic cup was pressed into his hand and Sirius looked at it for a second before the girl giggled and he knocked it back like he had seen Bella do when she used to come round. She didn't even look at him anymore. Didn't even acknowledge his presence.

It burned his throat and he gagged, coughing wildly.

The girl laughed harder, soft small tanned hands clutching him.

"It gets easier the more you do it, here." She poured more of the amber liquid into the cup and raised it to his lips. "Drink up."

"Okay."

"Good boy." She smiled as he drank the amber liquid down, it still burned but he didn't cough this time.

And then her lips were on his neck, tracing soft kisses down to his chest. Nibbling on his ear. Breathing hot and possessively into the crook of his neck.

But then she stopped, pulling back and staring at him.

"You're not nearly drunk enough for this are you?"

"I-I don't know."

He searched wildly for an exit, a way out, but found none.

Her dark brown eyes stared unsteadily into his and she shook her head.

"Here." She said finally, pressing the bottle into his hand, returning to her previous activities.

Sirius stared at the bottle in his hand for a long time before lifting it to his lips. Slowly the liquid in it disappeared until there were only dredges left. The world swayed before him, wavering and wilting like the dead flowers in his grandmother's garden and his stomach rolled unpleasantly and his thoughts and sentences ran into one another and he couldn't make his mouth work.

Sometime, somehow, they had relocated to a difference place. Away from the music, the bass still thumping ominously in the background but muted now. Sirius couldn't remember when, or moving, or anything.

The girl was still there half on half off his lap, holding him down with her long tan legs, but his shirt was gone.

A wave of heat ran across his body, taking up residence in the pit of his stomach as she trailed further and further down.

She paused as she was undoing the button of his jeans.

"Do you want me to stop?" She asked teasingly.

"I-I…" Words failed him as he stared at her big brown doe eyes. She seemed to take that as permission to keep going for what seemed like second later his jeans were on a pile on the floor.

Straddling him, she smiled prettily but he could smell the alcohol on her breath and his own head began to spin.

"I'm eighteen. How old are you?" She asked, biting her lip in what she must have thought was a sexy way.

"Sixteen."

She laughed.

"How old are you really?"

Sirius opened his mouth to answer.

Thirteen.

I'm only thirteen. I'm only thirteen years old…I'm not old enough for this. I'm not ready for this.

But the girl had moved on, and he watched helplessly as she slipped her panties off and straddled him again. His body betraying him even as his mind screamed out.

His tongue was thick and dry in his mouth and he couldn't seem to form words, any words, certainly not the word _no._

Not the word _stop._

Please please stop. I don't want this. I'm not ready for this. Please.

Suddenly she was on top of him and he gasped in shock, grabbing wildly at the floor for something to cling to, eyes staring up at her in terror as she moved slowly on top of him.

Faster and faster, her hands reaching out and grabbing his, placing them on her hips and he clung to her.

Nails digging in, he didn't care if her hurt her, he didn't care about her at all. Her hot skin burning his hands.

Getting hotter and hotter until he couldn't take it anymore and tried to let go.

But there was his father.

On top of him.

Pounding into him.

And the pleasure turned into pain.

Screaming at him as he screamed out, the thin vein in his father's forehead popping out, spit flying from his lips, sizzling on the coals as he grabbed his hands in a grip like a vice and pressed them onto the white hot coals.

And Sirius screamed harder then.

Tears bursting out of his eyes as he screamed.

There was no room in his brain for anything but the pain. The pain overtook everything.

No room for begging, for pleading, for explaining.

Just pain and screaming until his throat was hoarse and the coals cooled down.

Curled into a ball on the imported Persian rug with his blistering bleeding hands cradled against his chest. Every breath he exhaled stung and shot waves of pain through his body, spasms, and he felt he had run out of tears. Run out of life.

It was a pain he didn't know, couldn't comprehend, his eyes were blurred with tears and his nose was running and he could just barely make out the blurry black shapes of his father's boots as they stood in front of him.

.

"You dare defile yourself, your blood, by giving yourself away to a mudblood, not even that, a filthy muggle whore…"

.

"You are no son of mine."

.

"You little slut."

.

"If you're going to act like a whore, I'll use you like a whore."

.

"Sirius."

The loud smack echoed around the unusually quiet dorm room and Remus looked up from his book to where James had just backhanded Sirius across the face.

"Ughh…" Sirius groaned, one hand slowly coming up to feel his stinging face. "What the hell?"

"You were having a nightmare mate." James whispered.

The sunlight fell perfectly on his face making him look like an angel sent down from heaven, a demigod among the mongrels.

The angel placed a hand softly on Sirius' leg from where he was perched on the edge of the bed, his thumb rubbing slow soothing circles.

Comprehension slowly donned on Sirius and he nodded, grimacing as he felt himself twitch beneath the sheets and heat rush through his body, he rolled over away from James trying to hide it.

"Leave me alone James."

"But what about breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You're thirteen. You're a growing boy Sirius! You have to eat breakfast!"

"Let me sleep, bring me back something if you're so bloody worried about it." Sirius grumbled into his pillow, already his head was heavy with sleep and something else he didn't like to think about and he was faintly aware of James' weight disappearing from his mattress and the door closing softly.

Faint sunlight filtered through the curtains that James had redrawn around his bed and Sirius shivered despite the heavy winter blankets pilled around him.

.

Staring at his pale perfect hands, perfect unbroken skin.

.

His eyes blurred with tears and he pressed his face into the pillow, nails digging into his arm as he drifted back to sleep.

.

To dreams of long tan legs and golden glinting hazel eyes and fire.

.

There's blood under his nails when he finally wakes and James is nowhere to be found.


End file.
